Piano Man
by ForeverHoneyBee
Summary: The plan was simple: help Slick and his gang kidnap the rich baker's piano prodigy son for ransom, then reap the rewards. Simple. That was the plan, that was all Karkat Vantas planned for, but fate is a cruel and unforgiving mistress, and she has it out for him these days.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I haven't posted anything in awhile -over a year at least- and I figured I oughta post something and be more active again so heres a little thing thats been festering for awhile. Its a Johnkat humanstuck and may have some M rated stuff later on. There will be character death, just a warning, but either way enjoy!

**Disclaimer: Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie and Piano Man belongs to Billy Joel, I only own the plot.**

He'd never been much of a fan of piano, much preferring to blast his ears out with mindless death metal or rock music, so one might wonder why the leather-clad raven haired boy was situated on the back of an old café – one of the kind that had the feel of a second home with its friendly staff and coffee drenched air – with a mug of tea in his hands. He defiantly stood out among the other customers that had gathered, either to mingle or to watch the young man – boy even, no older than 17 – up on the stage, fingers dancing along the stained ivory keys of an ancient grand piano in an amazing rendition of "Piano Man" as he sang along – some customers sang along with him. He was here on business; a job from Slick. _Nab the kid and bring him back to HQ_, he'd said as he practically shoved him out of the van. So here he was, sitting in a dumpy little café, his red eyes never leaving the boy on stage.

_It'll be simple Karkat,_ he thought, _just wait 'til he leaves and corner him_. The boy – who Karkat had a limited knowledge of, he was Betty Crocker's grandkid or some shit, he didn't really care – finished the song's final riff and stood up from the instrument, and taking a very casual bow (not that he could've done much better if he tried, Karkat mused, what with his denim jacket and ripped jeans complete with ratty old converse that had their share of miles under their souls). The crowd cheered enthusiastically and the kid gave a big, bucktoothed grin. As he started to talk into a mic, Karkat's phone started to vibrate. Grumbling angrily as he saw the caller ID, he pressed the phone to his ear.

"What do you want Slick, I'm kinda busy.". he hissed quietly, as not to draw the attention of unwanted ears.

"Where are you, you outa be here by now." Came the gruff reply.

"He's still playing. Sorry but I don't think nabbing him right off the stage in front of at least 50 people would go over well." The other line was quiet and if he didn't know better, he'd have sworn Slick had hung up, but he was smarter than that.

"Hurry the hell up then, kid.". the subtle click alerted him that his boss had hung up. Slipping the device back into his pocket, he realized that the kid wasn't on stage anymore, and Karkat almost panicked – how could he explain that he _lost_ the person that Slick and his crew wanted in their clutches – but then a quick survey of the room found him embracing an older, portly woman, the owner's wife, if he was correct in assuming. Then he was heading out of a side door behing the coffee counter. Leaving his half full mug on the table, Karkat stood up and hurried out the front door to catch him. The café was shoved right up next to a department store with a small alley in between, and the kid should still be walking the narrow passage.

It was night, a late October evening, so it was just cold enough to send shivers down his spine, and the city light drowned the stars into a foggy haze of a sky. As he turned into the mouth of the alley, he almost didn't see anyone, but then he saw the light of a phone screen somewhere in the darkness. _Perfect,_ he thought as he headed toward the dim light. Pulling a small bottle and a rag out of the pocket of his leather jacket, he stopped momentarily to uncap the bottle and douse the rag in the sickly sweet chemical that made his nose twitch. Heading forward with careful steps to avoid making any noise, he snuck up on the boy, who looked to be texting someone. The rag firmly in his hand, he came up behing they boy, closing one arm around his chest, trapping his arms to him and causing his phone to fall to the ground , and his other hand pressing the rag firmly over the boys mouth and nose.

The boy, almost instantly, started struggling and trying to free his arms, or scream or anything, but Karkat was, obviously, much stronger than him and held him easily. Offhandedly Karkat thought, _I've hand way to much practice at this for someone my age_, but threw the thought aside quickly. Leaning down to the boys ear he hissed harshly,

"Don't struggle, Fuckass". Of course that didn't stop the kid from trying to break free, but he was moving less, before he fell against Karkat, passed out. Pocketing the rag, he lifted the kids arm over his shoulder so he could half drag, half carry him to the bike Slick had left for him – thank god – and he kicked the discarded phone to the wall, hard enough to shatter the screen.

Luckily the kid wasn't too heavy, and there weren't many people out to see him dragging a comatose kid down the sidewalk, and he had no problems getting the kid into the side buggie –that was a normal sitting position, right? Hopping on himself, he started the bike and sped down the road. It looked like rain was on the way, if the slightly cloudy sheen to the normal haze and the wet earthy scent that overpowered the metallic, gasoline scent of the city were anything to go by.

It didn't take long to reach the mini-city maze or warehouses that was home to the 'oh-so-lovingly' named HQ Slick resided in. Of course He picked the largest vacant warehouse – a two story - right by the water so everything was drenched in the perpetually moldy smell of an algae infested harbor. Parking the bike right on the curb, he got off the thing and lifted the boy out of the sidecar, this time hoisting him over his shoulder, and headed to the entrance of the building. It was locked, as usual, and after a few irritated fist pounds on the door and an unwanted conversation with Deuce, one of Slick's second in command (second being used loosely as there were three 'second in command') he was let in and headed to the main room, where Slick would probably be waiting.

He was right, Slick was there, as well as Droog and Boxcars and a few other thugs Karkat didn't care about. Walking right to the center of the big room, he dropped the kid unceremoniously onto the ground, making sure he wouldn't hit his head as the floor was concrete; spread his arms as if saying 'there, I did what you want' and turned and walked out of the room, ignoring the glare he was sure he was receiving.

Heading up a flight of stairs, he turned down a hallway to his room, yeah he lived in the warehouse, and flopped onto his bed, tired from the day, and fell into a dreamless sleep, all thoughts from the day slipping away from him, the job, the kid, and lastly, the soft playing of the piano.

A/N: so there's the first chapter. What did you think? Feedback is always appreciated :)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Right, so I figure that since it's been about a week I should write another chapter, even if I have some other things I should be doing (I just love this story). Anyway, thank you guys so much for the feedback for chapter 1, it made me really happy to know that people liked it and wanted me to continue so I can just say thanks, and enjoy this chapter!

WARNING – john abuse in this chapter, just a little

**Disclaimer: Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie and Piano Man belongs to Billy Joel. I own the plot.**

His head was fuzzy, and nothing really came into focus. What time was it, and why did he feel so funny? It was chilly, and he tried to shift so that the covers would surround him in their wonderful warmth again, but his arms were missing. He groaned and flopped himself onto his stomach, he wasn't ready to wake up yet, he was soooo tired… only his head wasn't buried in his old pillow that smelled like Jade – she'd crawled into bed with him enough times after nightmares for her scent to just sort of stay there – and the cotton was leaving his mind. He wasn't in his bed at all, but then again he didn't remember going home last night either. He'd played the piano a t his favorite café, his last performance there probably, and then…then what?

There were voices, unfamiliar voices: that wasn't good. As he came to more and more he started to remember, that's right, someone jumped him in the alley. Had he been mugged? No, a mugger would have left him there, but he was pretty sure that this wasn't the alley. He tried opening his eyes, maybe if he could see his surroundings he'd be able to figure out where he was, though when he opened his eyes all he saw was black – and for a terrifying moment he'd sworn he'd gone blind. No, it was just a cloth, he deduced with his awesome detective skills he'd learned from his cousin Jane, though when he tried to remove it he finally figured out where his arms were. They were tied behind his back with…zip ties? He wasn't sure, but it wasn't rope, and it was very uncomfortable.

Not to mention that his backside was numb – the painful kind of numb, not the nice, bearable kind – from sitting in a chair for, well however long he'd been sitting in the chair. It was like a scene from one of his movies, almost, only if it had been the way he always imagined it being, he wouldn't be the one that was in need of rescue. That thought made him nervous, was he going to be rescued in time to catch his flight? It was really important that he get to Iceland…but if he was here, then what if he'd already missed it. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out, or what time it was now even. His dad would be disappointed in him if he missed the flight, because it wasn't like he could just reschedule and he didn't know if he'd even have enough time to- Whoa! Okay John, calm down. Everything would be fine, he thought. Footsteps were coming toward him now, had he made a noise that alerted his captors (what else could they be, John thought) It didn't matter because the footsteps were there, right in front of him and suddenly he wasn't a brave action hero.

Sure he'd been up for an hour by this point, but Karkat didn't see any point in getting out of bed just yet, it wasn't as if he needed to do anything today. He'd taken care of _that_ last night. Right, he thought, last night I brought the kid here. He sighed and rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye, wiping away excess sleep, now all that was left was to contact the kid's family and make the demands – he wondered if Slick had done that yet – and wait. It would be easy, and Slick had promised them all a good hunk of money for this. Absently he watched the sun chase the shadows away on the warehouse faces outside his window (he'd been lucky enough to get a room where the sun wouldn't bother him), but he was drawn out of his mind by a crash coming from downstairs, reverberating easily through the bare warehouse and Karkat, not so much curious as annoyed that he'd been disturbed, reluctantly went to investigate.

Out in the hallway he heard gruff cackling, the telltale sign of thugs causing trouble around here and there was a sort of whimpering, like the sound a young child would make if he were upset by some trivial thing. But Karkat was sure there were no small children here, so the only thing that could really be making that noise was…the kid. Storming down the stairs angrily he was met with an unusual sight; three of Slicks lower-level guys were crowded together cackling like a bunch of sick hyenas, and they towered over a toppled chair. The chair wasn't empty though, it had a person tied to it, and he was obviously a little – or more but Karkat couldn't see from this angle – worse for wear.

"Hey! What do you fucking idiots think you're doing?" He almost shouted, but honestly didn't need to as his voice echoed right back to him; sounding just like it would if he'd yelled. The three looked over at him, still bearing smug little grins that, had he been bigger than them, he'd love to rip off their faces because _no one_ acted smug to Karkat Vantas and got away with it – except Slick but that's because he'd probably be dead otherwise.

One of them cleared his throat, "Eh we were just having a little fun with him." His companions nodded.

"Yeah, Slick said we couldn't kill him, so we was just roughing him up a little, no big deal _Kitten_" The second sneered, knowing that he'd pushed a sensitive button using that infernal nickname some of them had deemed him. He growled, trying his damned hardest not to explode right then and there.

"Oh, so then you wouldn't mind if I brought this little act up with Slick then, if he doesn't care." Karkat almost purred, knowing he'd caught them. Anyone that knew the first thing about Slick knew that he didn't like his _merchandise_ to be damaged. The identical looks of terror on their faces were almost comical, and if Karkat looked hard enough he could almost imagine their jaws on the floor and their eyes bulging out of their heads.

"You wouldn't do that Ki- Kar would you?" He pretended to contemplate it.

"I suppose I could let it go…if you three are out of my sight in the next 2.5 seconds." Off they shot like clumsy rockets, stumbling over each other to get out first. He sighed; of course he was going to tell Slick, some people were just so gullible. He turned his attention back to the boy in the toppled chair, who had quieted considerably since he'd shown up, but was still making little noises of pain every once in a while. Walking over to him, Karkat grabbed the back of the chair and hauled it upright. The boy jumped and let a gasp slip out.

"P-please, no more-"He said pathetically, his voice cracking as if he was a puppy about to be punished for peeing on the carpet. He went to continue, but Karkat wasn't having any of it.

"Shut the fuck up will you." He hissed, which shut the boy right up. Karkat gave the boy a quick once over. Damn they'd got him good, that was for sure, and there was some blood – not a lot, but enough to make Karkat _almost_ concerned. Decided that the middle of the main room was not preferable for treating wounds – what, he wasn't completely heartless. He wasn't so cruel that he'd just leave the kids wounds to fester and get infected, because honestly the floor was filthy – he tilted the chair on its back legs, earning a yelp from t kid, and proceeded to drag him into one of the larger side rooms that branched off from the main room.

Once there – and after a quick jog to the bathroom to get the first aid kit – he stood in front of the boy with his arms crossed, wondering just_ where_ to start first. He supposed there wasn't really a bad place to start, so he decided with the kids face. With the damp washcloth he had in his hand, he pressed it against the boy's cheek and began to gently scrub away the bits of blood that stuck there. The boy flinched at the contact. Karkat continued his ministrations for a minute or so before he became frustrated, the damn blindfold was bloody and every time he so much as nudged it with his washcloth he ended up smearing blood and making a bigger mess than he'd started with.

Grumbling to himself, and completely ignoring the kid's noises, he reached behind his head and undid the knot that bound the thing around his eyes. Tossing it aside he grabbed the washcloth and looked back to the kids face, reach to finish cleaning so he could disinfect everything and be done, but he was met with a pair of terrified, bright blue – like looking into the bluest skies from prospect, or staring at the deepest ocean –eyes that stared right at him. Karkat was taken aback, yeah he'd seen the kids blue eyes, but that was from far away, and they'd been hidden…with glasses. Now there was nothing blocking his view and Karkat had to remind himself a time or two that he had cleaning to do, so he shook 's stuttering (seriously had the kid forgotten how to speak or something?) and once again pressed the cloth to his face. The kid let out a whimper of pain and Karkat was somewhere else entirely, his _hand I tried to teach Kanny how to ride a bike, but he crashed and I had to –NO!_ He couldn't think about Kanny, or anyone, that was the past and that was gone.

"A-are you alright?" The timid voice made him look up – when had he looked down? – And he stared at the boy who was giving him a weird look. He glared, shoving any previous thoughts to the dark and dusty recesses of his mind to rot for all of eternity.

"I'm fine," He grated. "Besides, I should be asking you that, stupid. You look like you've been hit by a fucking bus."

The boy gave what could have been a laugh had it been different circumstances, "Yeah well I feel like I've been hit by a bus, to be honest." Then silence again. Karkat thought that had been the end of their little chat.

"If, uh, if you don't mind my asking, where am I?" He could almost laugh at his position; here he was, sitting with the kid he'd kidnapped the night before, having a conversation like they were just acquaintances out for coffee.

"It's not important where you are, you won't be here long." Well that part was debatable depending on one's definition of time. He capped the bottle of disinfectant. Luckily the extent of the boys injuries were on his face and shoulders, so he was done with all this parenting bullshit – cleaning wounds always made him feel like that for some reason.

"You don't get it I have somewhere really important to b-"

"Don't us all. Point is you're here, end of story." He roughly dragged the chair back out of the room and into the center of the main room again. He'd left the blindfold off – not that he cared, he didn't really see why it was important, it's not as if he could figure out where he was from the inside of the building – and began stalking toward the stairs. He'd tell Slick about the harassment later, right now he just needed a nice, long shower.

"Wait!" The boy called after him, "What's your name, at least?"

He looked over his shoulder at the boy, who was giving him a pleading look that said 'please don't leave me here by myself' but Karkat was going to do just that whether the kid liked it or not. "It's Karkat." He said, however. Then he began up the stair again only hearing one more thing in the empty room.

"I'm john."

_A/N: this one is twice as long as chapter one and we get a little insight on John. Btw I know John's part was written kind of strange, but I was trying to go off of the feeling of "Oh I'm just waking up form essentially being drugged and kidnapped and I have no idea where I am or what's going to happen to me, not to mention that I am blindfolded' so…

But yay, John and Karkat officially meet, and I apologize for the John abuse but it had to happen.

That's really all I have to say for this chapter, other than this story isn't beta'd so there may be mistakes because I'm only human and can't catch things (and doesn't realize that spellcheck doesn't fix everything) so I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, and don't forget to leave feedback because it just motivates me to write and it makes me really happy

**Also I'd like to thank:**

**Ayame Shimizu**

**Angrykarkat25**

**Pandaheadpancake**

**Cynicalgemologist (from tumblr)**

**For being the first to review for this story, it made me so happy to see that you guys liked it. And thanks to all you guys that followed/favorite as well **


	3. Chapter 3

AN: right… so finally getting the next chapter out. Sorry, sometimes I have nothing, then sometimes inspiration hits me like a brick wall, and always late at night too. Anyway here's this chapter, it might be a little slow in the beginning but it'll speed up. Enjoy

**Warning: more john abuse, but not as much as last time, only enough to get on kk's nerves. Also mentions of sex.**

**Disclaimer: Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie and piano man belongs to Billy Joel**

It had been 3 days since the kid – John, he had to remind himself – had taken a beating, and Karkat had been avoiding him since His reasoning was that it would look suspicious if he was seen talking to the prisoner, but it was mostly because he didn't want to see those blue eyes stare at him and make him feel guilty. That's all John did when Karkat was in the same room with him, because he'd learned that if he talked he'd get a nice fist in his gut. Fortunately, or unfortunately in Karkat's case, they'd left the blindfold off, and the glasses he'd worn a few nights ago were still M.I.A. so every time he so much as walked into the 'lobby' he was bore into by blue as fuck, unobscured eyes practically begging to be acknowledged.

One day Karkat was walking with Slick, and the man was angrily mumbling about how John's father wasn't answering his phone, when they walked into the main room and Karkat - unwillingly – met John's eyes when they boy looked up from his lap. Karkat had been meaning to get his glasses back from wherever they'd disappeared to when the blindfold had been put on, but he hadn't gotten around to it. He hurriedly looked back to slick, pretending he hadn't noticed john at all.

How long am I gonna be here?'' Karkat cringed when slick turned to face the boy, then he watched as he made his way to john – well he knew it was gonna happen, so Karkat shouldn't care; the kid deserved it for speaking out of turned – and Karkat inwardly rolled his eyes, but looked away as he heard the sharp _crack_ of slicks had making contact with his face, hard; followed by the now familiar cry of pain from john. The boy didn't talk after that, and when Karkat looked back at him he was hit with a wave of pity, the poor kid looked like he was trying not to cry. The snickers around him suddenly irritated him more than normal, honestly how heartless could people be – sure Karkat robbed and kidnapped and occasionally beat someone bloody if needed to, but at least he could feel sympathy for innocents.

Karkat huffed and stalked out of the building, a habit, and hopped on his bike. He just needed to leave for a while that's all, he'd been there since he brought john back so maybe a little fresh air would be good for him.

God everything hurt. Every bruise that still flowered his skin from a few days ago, and he was pretty sure his face would be permanently bruised what with all the rough hands that smacked it. Then there was… the other thing. He hadn't taken any of his medication in at least three days and his condition had started acting up, the sharp pains occasionally ripping through him (luckily it had only happened three times but still, he needed to get his medicine). John didn't know where he was and at the moment he had no way of getting home, let alone a hospital. He hoped his dad was looking for him.

He had been staring down at his lap, half zoned out because there wasn't anything else to keep him occupied, when he heard the mob boss's – his name was Slick if he'd heard right – gruff voice muttering something. Looking up with bleary eyes (where were his glasses anyway) and – sort of – saw him walk in with a smaller person, smaller than anyone else he'd seen. Oh, that must be, uh, Karkat. Right that was his name; he was the guy who helped him the other day. Only he hadn't said anything to him since.

"How long am I gonna be here?'' he asked, hoping, but doubting, that Karkat would actually answer him. Of course he didn't, he hadn't yet so far, but now Slick was coming toward him, uh-oh.

The slap hurt just like all the other ones and he yelped in pain. He hung his head and held his breath, trying as hard as he could not to let any tears fall. Not in front of all these people. He heard hard footsteps on the concrete, then the faint slam of a door, not that it mattered much to him.

A harsh cry escaped his lips as his hair was pulled and he was forced to look up into the –blurry – face of slick, "One more noise outta you, kid, and you won't be playing the piano anymore. I hear you're good, it'd be a shame". And the man let go of him and walked away, leaving John by himself in the now empty room. He took a shuddering breath and tried not to cry.

Karkat didn't get back until late, after spending the entire day with his asshole friend sol lux –some kid he'd met at a Starbucks a few years back that had insisted that Karkat give him his phone number – and griping about his 'family problems'. Sol didn't know that his parents were dead and that he'd been part of a gang since, and Karkat sure as hell wouldn't tell him, hence why he'd called the gang his 'family'. Sol never complained about his friends moaning and groaning, he just listened and occasionally made fun of Karkat.

They'd even dated for a time, after Karkat had come out of the closet. Though, they'd ended their relationship four months in on mutual terms and were still good friends and occasional fuck buddies when Sollux's bisexual tendencies got the better of him and Eridan was in a bad mood.

He stumbled into the warehouse, tripping over some loose wires and grumbling that the place needed to be cleaned up. The lights were dim in the main room and Karkat glanced at John, fitfully sleeping in the uncomfortable folding chair he'd been sat in or almost 5 days now, and Karkat felt sorry for him – his ass must be numb as fuck, he thought amusedly. Karkat noticed how pale he looked, but shrugged it off as the weird lighting. Making a decision that would certainly get him an earful tomorrow, he trudged over to the boy.

Tapping him lightly on the shoulder, Karkat was almost surprised by how quickly the boy woke up, he sure hadn't got the best night sleep since he came here. John looked up at him, eyes still bleary, "what-"

"Do… you want to sleep with me tonight?" He asked in a low voice, not looking directly at him, instead focusing on the boys left shoulder.

"What?"

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight, it's not that hard a question." he hissed out, not so much angry as annoyed that he had to repeat himself.

"Well, I mean, um, we barely know each other, and…" Karkat slapped his forehead, his cheeks turned red from embarrassment.

"Not like that fuckass, I meant just sleep in the same bed as me. You've been in that chair for five fucking days and I was just trying to be considerate and augg!" He exhaled in exasperation, god this kid. He hadn't even known him a week.

"I know what you meant Karkat, I was only joking". That smile just had so much innocence k

Karkat wanted to barf. "Whatever, is that a yes or no then?" John shrugged.

"sure, buy won't your boss have a cow?"

"Like I care what he thinks, and anyway I have a few tricks up my sleeve in case you try anything funny." karkat replied as he grabbed a pair of nearby pliers and snapped away the binds holding John, who promptly rubbed his raw, red wrists trying to get some feeling back into them. He didn't stand up right away, either, only getting up when Karkat's hand closed around his forearm and pulled him up. He was a little wobbly, but able to stand and together they walked to Karkat's room.

Upon entering, Karkat sat john on his bed and dug in his drawers. He pulled out a white shirt and his biggest pair of sweatpants, john was a bit taller than him –like half a foot but Karkat didn't like talking about it – and tossed them at john before grabbing his own sleeping attire, and a small key. He turned to see john staring dumbly at the items.

"Change into them dumbass, I won't peek if that's what your worried about". Karkat turned and removed his own shirt and jeans, replacing them with the much softer fabric of his PJ's.

"Why?"

"Because the clothes you're wearing haven't been washed in at least five days and I don't want that in my bed that's why". Karkat sighed and rubbed at his eyes. He took the key and stuck t in the door, locking it. He did the same for the window and pocked the key. By the time he turned around john had changed and his dirty clothes were in a pile on the floor. He was sitting there staring at Karkat like a puppy would stare at someone hiding a ball behind their back.

Karkat slipped into bed opposite john, mumbling at him to get the bedside lamp and to lie the fuck down and go to sleep. John did as he was to plod and soon they were both surrounded by darkness, the sounds of the city outside a quiet lullaby.

"Don't try anything funny, alright". Karkat said, his back turned to the boy to avoid any awkwardness. Sure he'd had sex before, but there was something, intimate, about just being in the same bed as another being.

"Sure thing Karkat". The boy's voice trailed off as he fell asleep. Good, he needed the rest. Karkat let his mind wander as he, too, drifted into slumber.

A/N: so yeah, hopefully things will pick up from here, not gonna tell too much about john's 'condition' until it pops up, but just be aware.

Also, even though it isn't really relevant, sollux is a polyamorous bisexual with Fef, Aradia and Eriden all in a relationship. Karkat isn't part of that, they broke up before it, but still have sex sometimes because why not.

Anyway feedback is always appreciated and helps me motivate myself to write more, I like peoples input

**Thanks to:**

**Pandaheadpancake**

**Ayame Shimizu**

**Cynicalgemologist (tumblr)**


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